Shots
by Kadrian
Summary: Later Wolf would call it an accident, or perhaps a possession, or some sort of hyped drugs that had caused him to pull Cub into what he considered an 'unmanly' hug.


A.N.: Oopsh. Probably should be updating my other stories, but...here you go

* * *

Wolf didn't like having Cub living with him. He was no caretaker and if it weren't for the fact that he happened to be near when Cub had his last little run-in, with a car, he probably never would have to be in this position. Next time, Wolf promised himself, he would leave Cub bleeding and dying on the road because that teen was one hell of a magnet for trouble.

Wolf didn't like Cub on the first day, not even the slightest after the second week, and if possible, even less after the third month. Every day, as far as he remembered, he would tell Cub to go to his room and hopefully never see him again.

Then the next morning, Cub would walk down the stairs like he had said nothing. Which was partially true since Cub had nowhere to turn to. Every day before Cub leave for his school dressed in that posh, uncharacteristic of him, uniform, Wolf would remind Cub to not come back. And of course, Cub would return in his bike, his shirt stuck to him with sweat and his facial expression gleeful about something.

"Hey, Wolf," Cub's cheerful voice by the door jerked him out of his thought, halting the knife that was closed to slicing his fingers off due to his inattention.

"What?" He grunted, sliding the kitchen knife back into its shelf.

"I'm going to be a little late today," Cub called, "Don't wait up."

"Don't come back," Wolf replied routinely.

"Oh dear, you know you love me ever since the first day."

The front door closed sharply with a click before Wolf could reply. Wolf didn't like Cub's arrogant attitude and his narcissistic and sarcastic personality. Frowning slightly in exasperation and irritation, Wolf plopped himself down on the sofa and leaned back.

Finally, eight hours of peace. Hopefully, Cub wouldn't return till ten so he could really enjoy his day.

* * *

Wolf didn't like it. It was making him uneasy. A whole week in a row, even on damn weekends. And Cub wasn't willing to say anything. Wolf was fixed to net that brat down till he answered his question.

And that was why he found himself waiting at the door as midnight struck. Cub wasn't back yet, like yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before _that_. And the whole damn four days before that too.

"You're quite late," Wolf commented as the door finally opened, revealing Cub with his hands still on the handlebar.

"You waited up," Cub replied sarcastically, "I feel warmed to the heart, Wolf."

"What have you been up to?" Wolf asked as Cub rudely brushed pass and closed the door behind him, "Coming back at twelve, I dare say you've been up to something a little more than homework as you mentioned."

"Craploads of homework," Cub said as he threw his schoolbag on the sofa and went into the kitchen, "I'm hungry."

"Damn it, Cub," Wolf snapped, "You better say it now or I'll call 6."

He saw Cub faltered and his hand twitched ever-so-slightly, "Had some business to take care of."

"What business?"

"A little here and there."

Cub was caught unaware as Wolf grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and slammed him against the wall though taking extra care to not give the boy a concussion, "Answer me."

"Spy business," Cub rolled his eyes, clearly unperturbed by Wolf's blunt manner.

Wolf released him, "Spy business?"

Cub had given up on making dinner and instead sat down on the edge of the sofa, his brows furrowed, "Hey, Wolf?"

"What."

"What do you think about me joining a circus?"

Wolf spluttered, nearly choking on his own saliva, "Come again?"

"Maybe not," Cub shook his head, amused by his reaction, "I'll think of a different way."

"Care to explain?" Wolf asked skeptically.

"Nah," Cub said, falling back onto the sofa with a soft sigh, "Hey, Wolf."

"What," Wolf grunted. Something was wrong.

"Do you want me gone, darling?" Cub asked sarcastically.

That made Wolf routinely angry, even though he knew he wasn't angry or anything, it was a habit, the need to get angry at Cub whenever the brat became bratty.

"Of course," Wolf snorted, "I would rather not see your ugly face every fucking day. It puts me off."

"We have a school field trip tomorrow," Cub continued, shifting over so that he could meet his eyes over the edge of the sofa, "Will be gone for about a week or so."

Wolf hummed, "Don't come back. Where are you going anyway?"

"Paris," The teen replied, sitting up.

"Find yourself a family over there and don't come back," Wolf replied as he turned and headed upstairs, "Goodnight, Cub."

"Goodnight, darling."

* * *

Wolf didn't like it. The uneasy feeling was gnawing and eating him alive from the inside. Cub's friend, some Tom Harris or whatever, had just called and asked if Cub was sick because he wasn't at school today. Wolf thought they went on a field trip like Cub had mentioned. Apparently not. Cub had lied. To him.

He had called Cub. There was no answer. The phone was off. Wolf didn't leave a message. He wasn't that sentimental about the brat.

But he didn't like it.

Grabbing his phone from the table, he dialed again. No answer. Then came the beep and Wolf cleared his throat, "Where the fuck are you? You lied to me about the field trip. I swear I'm going to kill you when you get your sorry ass back."

Beep.

He felt a little better after that upon imagining Cub's cheeky grin and his narcissistic reply.

"Damn it."

The doorbell rung and Wolf went to open the door. The mailman handed him a box, "Please sign here."

"I didn't order anything."

The mailman frowned and look at the address on the box, "It's this house alright, sir. To a 'Wolf Dumbars'. It's from a 'Cubbie Cub'." The mailman was put off by the names.

"Oh right, my cousin," Wolf grunted in irritation at a certain teen and took the pen, quickly scribbling his codename down, "Here."

"Thank you," The mailman bid him a good day and headed back to his car.

Wolf closed the door behind him and placed the box on the kitchen table before slicing it carefully open. It was heavy, but not stone-heavy. He heard rustling. Papers?

He took them out and leafed through them.

"Holy shit."

A letter addressed to him fluttered out and as he read it, everything started to make a little more sense.

* * *

Wolf didn't like it. He was panicking. He wouldn't say that out loud, of course, but he was panicking ever since Fox had called him.

"What do you mean Cub's a rogue agent?" Wolf snapped as he paced around the room with the rest of K-Unit plus Fox seated on the sofa before the cold hearth.

"Cub, Alex," Fox explained, "Ran with important documents from the office. Blunt wants the file and Alex back."

"Cub doesn't just run away like that," Wolf was defensive of his former ward, "That isn't like Cub."

"The documents really were stolen," Fox replied gravely, "And we saw tapes of Alex taking them. It's concrete evidence."

Wolf stopped his pacing, "What do we do now?"

"Waiting for your order," Snake said quietly.

"What?"

"We were asked to…bring Alex back," Fox swallowed. Wolf did not miss the hesitation, "It's your mission, Wolf."

"Where is he?"

"Blunt said he's in Paris," Fox said, leaning back, "If we catch a flight, we can make it probably in one hour."

"But…?" Wolf could sense it coming.

"There's no available flight right now."

"Why do we have to leave so early?"

"Blunt sent other teams as well," The cheerful Eagle was gone, "I want to get there before they do. They won't treat Cub the same way we do."

"What do you mean?" Wolf narrowed his eyes.

"Blunt want Alex back, dead or alive."

* * *

Wolf was scared.

He heard the shot fired, but it wasn't from them. He saw Cub's form crumpled, and then there was silence.

"Hey, Cub, stay with me," Wolf said as he crashed onto the floor beside Cub and dragged him into his arms, "Hey."

The bullet had embedded itself right on the side. There was a lot of blood and Wolf didn't like how dull Cub's eyes were getting.

"Wolf…" It was no more than a breathy whisper.

"Can you get up?" Wolf asked, ignoring Cub's comment, "Let's get you to a hospital."

"The box," Cub gasped, grabbing Wolf's wrist in a surprisingly tight grip, "Did you get it?"

"Yeah, I did. I got it," Wolf growled, "C'mon. Get up. Hospital."

"And the letter?"

"Shut up, Cub," Wolf gently pulled the wounded spy up, slinging an arm across his waist and taking extra care to not hurt his bullet wound.

"Letter?" Cub's voice was weak. Wolf didn't like it.

"I got it, I got it, alright?" Wolf snapped, "I've it right back at home so shut the fuck up and follow my orders."

Wolf was panicking. He was scared. He was uneasy. And suddenly, he was angered. Angry toward the way Cub was treated, toward the man who had shot Cub, and toward Cub. And toward himself. He couldn't take care of a fucking brat. He'd failed.

Wolf tightened his grip on Cub's wrist as they headed toward the car. The other unit who had shot Cub was outside looking a little disgruntled and uneasy. Fox's threatening glance was enough to put a distance between them and the other units. But Wolf didn't notice.

He was listening to Cub's heartbeat and feeling his pulse. He could hear the labored breath in every step they took and the slowly drained away energy from Cub. He didn't like it.

"Don't turn me to Blunt," It was so softly uttered that Wolf swore he was hearing things.

"What?"

"Kill me before that."

* * *

Wolf was feeling paranoid as he stood before the graveyard, staring down at Cub's stone. There were flowers. The funeral was a week ago and the flowers were slightly wilted. He felt funny going to a funeral of a live person.

"Hey Wolfie wolf," Cub's cheerful, though weak, voice called from the gate of the cemetery, "Missing me already?"

"If 6 sees you," Wolf growled as he hurried to the teen and laid a hand on his shoulder, "You're so dead."

"Oh, I'm already dead," Cub snorted as they walked slowly back to Wolf's house, "Fox's here. We should go."

"Going to Hawaii for rehab is ridiculous," Wolf grunted as he pushed the door opened for Cub, "It's not even logical."

"Well, I'm an officially dead person," Cub replied cheerfully as he plopped himself down on the sofa, "So, suitcase ready, Wolf?"

"I have a friend in Hawaii," Fox greeted them, munching on a bag of chips that Wolf swore he had warned the man to not touch, "He'll give you protection there. Wolf, you should drop Alex off and come back, I don't want any trails leading toward him. 6 isn't that stupid, they'll know something's off."

"Once we get the things out in the newspaper," Wolf said as he rolled Cub's suitcase over, "It'll be fine."

Fox hummed, "I'm getting it through. I've already sent it. We just have to wait."

* * *

The house was empty of life. It had been so for about a week, ever since Wolf had departed to Hawaii. The newspaper lying on the kitchen table had bold headlines on it.

 **MI6's Dirty Secret: Underage Agent**

There were papers and letters beneath and around the newsletter. The public had an uproar when it was released a week ago. Wolf didn't care all that much. He was on the first flight to Hawaii in an instant. Fox had a smirk on his face.

* * *

Wolf was irritated. He was fucking irritated. He had told Cub to wait for him at the airport at ten. And it was currently ten thirty. Cub was thirty minutes late. He was going to kill that brat.

"Oi Wolf!" Wolf turned sharply to see Cub waving at him with his usual sarcastic and enigmatic grin, "Here."

"You're thirty bloody minutes late," Wolf growled, thrusting his suitcase before Cub, "Carry this."

Cub didn't complain as he tugged the case along, "Missing me already, Wolf?"

"Shut the fuck up."

Later Wolf would call it an accident, or perhaps a possession, or some sort of hyped drugs that had caused him to pull Cub into what he considered an 'unmanly' hug.


End file.
